


Intruder

by DarthKrande



Series: Azkaban AU [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Home, Loneliness, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthKrande/pseuds/DarthKrande
Summary: How Grimmauld Place feels like if you come alone, even with the invitation of the rightful owner. Narrator: Daire





	

A man owns a house where he never lived since he inherited it.

Mostly, because he's in prison. In Azkaban, to be exact.

The house is surrounded by people who ignore it. They live every day of their lives, one after the other, thinking this building doesn't exist.

But it does, and that's what matters.

I reach the gap in the wall, I feel magic at work as the rigid bricks give under my fingers. A few moments, and I get into the upper room.

Powerful defenses have been cast on this place. I came with the permission of the rightful owner, but now that I've passed the layer of security spells, I'm cut from everyone I've ever known.

I take a breath.

There are two creatures in here. One is a powerful magic-user, but has a weak sense of self. Most likely, a house-elf. The other is a non-being, powerless compared to me.

The elf has interesting memories. I try to reach for those, but the creature apparates away. The non-being also flees from me. I don't even know what it was.

Now I'm perfectly alone in the wizard's house. Despite the invitation, I feel out of place. An intruder.

I have memories of this room. I touch the bed: it's right where it should be, human-sized, soft, and there are several muggle magazines hidden under the pillow. I detect the permanent sticking charms right above the table: it must be holding the image of the fighter jet, a streamlined grey piece of metal that flies without magic, from the left to the right, slightly ascending. There's only the clear sky in the background. That's how Sirius remembers it, and since I don't detect any spells that would have caused any damage to it (I only feel a few failed attempts) I assume the picture is still in place.

Careful not to hit anything, I move back to the window. To my relief, the wall is solid between me and the muggle world outside. We made sure not to draw attention on our way here, but a gaping hole in the wall might lure an auror.

Now that I'm alone, discretion is my only security. If the Ministry would find me, I wouldn't stand a chance. But the hatch is closed, it's little more than a fracture now. Sirius was right, I'm in the ideal hiding place.

That is why I came. To hide.

I need a rest before I could examine the other rooms.

I need to hide because I'm weak, far too weak. I let the weight of my cloak pull me down on the bed. I got this far. There's no point in floating anymore.

My hood falls back, leaving my head without cover. With a sluggish reflex I reach to put it back, to hide myself under it. I'm in an ancient wizarding family's house, I shouldn't be seen like this.

But there's nobody to see me. It's just me and the memories I brought along.

The bed is small, but good enough for me to do as Sirius is certain to be doing in Azkaban: curl up, and wait for time to pass.

Alone and vulnerable, I understand him more than ever.

 


End file.
